25 Days of Destiel
by DaisyTheDoodleDog
Summary: Just 25 days to fill our hearts with Destiel with different holiday themes/prompts. None of these really relate or necessarily fit in the current story in season 15, because we need Sam/Eileen and Destiel content together. So enjoy and please suggest ideas! I won't have a chapter for every day of the month, I've come to realize with finals and all that jazz, but I'll do my best!
1. Ice Skating

"Get him!" Dean screamed, scrambling across the two feet of snow that covered the parks ground, his boots sticking to the heavy clumps making him trip and flail his arms out trying to find his balance. Sam charged from the other direction, the park paths well salted and left mostly untouched by the harsh winter months, at least until the next know. The demon sprinted towards the parks center, where a massive christmas tree had been overly decorated with a two by two foot star a fourth the size of the tree itself.

"Cas! Where are you?" Dean hollered pointing the rock salt at the demon, firing his weapon but missing by a few inches. The angel, as if on cue, appeared from the playground where he had managed to save the pore woman who had been possessed by the other demon. With the other demon's smoke turned to dust at the hands of the angel, he ran after Dean trying to smite the pesky little rat from hell.

Bolting passed the front gate that lead to the center of the park, the demon was just out of Dean's grasp, when his knees buckled underneath him and his feet came flying in front of his face as the ground made contact with tailbone.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hollered. He rubbed his back as he stood, but his right foot slipped under him, bringing him back to the ground in a split. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. It took him several seconds for him to realize he was standing on an ice skating rink.

Sam stood only a few feet away on the path, doubled over, hair flopping in face as he became breathless from his laughter. He hadn't laughed this hard in ages, but watching his brother hit a near perfect split on the ice and curse so loudly that even Cas who had snatched the demon and stabbed him, stood with his head high with alert. Cas snorted.

"This isn't funny Sam!" Which apparently made it all the more funny, as Sam sat down in the snow, pointing at his brother and laughing harder, his breath heavy in the freezing temperatures. "Cas, help me out!"

Cas approached him cautiously, stepping out onto the ice. He put his arms out in front of him, bracing himself. It didn't last long, as he slipped, dropping to his knees and sliding out to Dean. Sam's laughter only grew. Cas grabbed Dean's frozen hands, using just enough of his grace for the energy to gather in his palms and pulse into Dean's hands, warming them. Cas offered him a soft smile, steadily bringing them to their feet. Their hands lingered, before Dean tugged his hands away and brushed off the snow and ice.

"Uh… thanks." Dean shook off, and hurried off the ice and back to the stability of the ground. Sammy was hiccuping with laughter, earning a sock in the shoulder from his older brother. But Dean sighed, the job had been done and with that they could go home and he could crawl into his warm bed and forget the shock of electricity that pulsed through his fingers when Cas touched him. It was like all the icy sting had just suddenly disappeared. Dean shoved the craving for the warmth down into the pit of his stomach the only evidence of it, a small boil in his stomach that made him sick and giddy all at once.

…

"We're stayin' the night!?" Dean exclaimed. There goes his hope for his own warm bed. Sam nodded impatiently, saying how he had to tie some things up with the sheriff's department, before ducking out of the motel room and down the street of the tiny town that cascaded into darkness. Dean flopped down on the bed, beyond exhausted. Cas careful sat beside him.

"Dean?"

"What's up, coconut?" Cas made a face.

"No, I'm not a coconut." Dean chuckled and slapped a hand on his shoulder. Cas beamed at the crinkle in his bright green eyes and smile that tugged on his lips. Cas loved it when he accidently made Dean laugh. Dean motioned for Cas to continue, and to be honest, Cas almost forgot his question, but he restored his tone and spoke.

"...I was wondering… well, I want to go- do you want to-" Cas stuttered, as if he hadn't spoken in a hundred years. Dean had never heard him stutter before, but found it amusing nonetheless.

"Castiel, are you asking me out on a date?" A deep flush rose of Cas's cheeks as he vigorously shook his head. Dean threw his head back and laughed at making the angel so flustered. He jumped off the bed and grabbed Cas by the trenchcoat. "I'm joking. Come on, I don't want to be in this lousy room any longer."

Dean pulled on his heavy coat and work boots, pulling Cas out the door. The two made their way down the main road towards the park. The park was covered in garlands and lamps wrapped with red ribbon and trees glowing with lights. With the snow falling softly, it was peaceful here. Without much thought the pair strolled through the park, Dean found himself listening to Cas rant about bees and hibernation. Dean smiled and stuck is numbing fingers deeper into his pockets.

"I can warm them again, if you'd like." Dean stopped in his tracks.

"W-what? That was your grace?" Cas nodded again, letting the tips of his fingers glow just enough to prove his point. Dean shook his head. "That's okay, I'm fine." Cas dropped the "bee talk" and they walked in silence until they came across the familiar Christmas Tree with the oversized star and ice rink surrounding. Couples held hands as they skated. Kids giggled as they fell, and two boys passed a hockey puck back and forth between them. Cas stopped and watched them endearingly. In that moment he wished nothing more than to be simply human. To feel the things these innocent, happy people felt. Dean caught his staring, the desire heavy in his breath.

"Wanna skate?" The words barely left Dean's mouth before Cas had torn down the path and to the rink entrance. "Whoa, hold on slick." Dean called out, handing the man at the counter tive dollars and snatching two pairs of skates. Dean tied them on, helping Cas with his and tripped out onto the ice. His legs immediately spread apart, and in fear of his earlier encounter with the ice, he grabbed the railing of the entrance, gripping to it for dear life. He groaned, mentally kicking himself for letting Cas and him do this. Speaking of which, the angel had been nowhere to be found, until Dean whipped his head around to find Cas sitting on the edge of the rink, his trench coat a wet mess, but he didn't seem to care.

Like a newborn cow, Dean struggled to stand and made his way closer to the angel. Cas was sitting next to a small girl who nervous stuck her skate into the ice.

"It's okay. I've never ice skated before either." The little girl sniffled and offered him a soft smile. He returned it with a gentle nod. "We can learn together if you want." Those words hit Dean like a ton of bricks sending him to the ground again. He cursed and gripped the railing for dear life, struggling to maintain his balance. His eyes were still glued to Cas and the girl.

Taking her hand, Cas slowly walked across the ice keeping the girl balanced. She tripped and fell into him a few times, but they laughed it off. Within minutes, Cas had been gliding across the ice as if he had been doing it all his life. He held her hands, pulling her as he went, laughing when she giggled and spinning her around. She shrieked with laughter until she could confidently let go and glide off without him. She waved at him as she circled the rink and met him back at the entrance.

"Thank you!" She giggled, hugging him tightly. He smiled at her softly, the kind of smile that stirred the giddy desire Dean had tried so hard to push away. The girl tugged her scarf off and put it around his neck, waving a quick goodbye and skating off.

"Made a friend?" Cas nodded.

"Come, I'll show you." Cas answered confidently. Dean shook his head and struggled to stay connected to the railing. But with Cas's deep blue eyes reflecting the christmas light like stars, he couldn't say no to that. So he let Cas take his hands and pull him the center of the rink. Man did Dean really suck at skating. It slipped his mind as Cas clutched his hands as they shakily spun in circles around the tree. Dean laughed every time the two of them fell, cursed whenever he messed Cas up, and watched as Cas at some point had taught himself how to spin on the ice, the trench blowing out and the snowflakes gathering in his black hair.

"Cas! Whoa!" Dean's arms flailed as he fell forward, but before he hit the cold hard ground he fell into something warm and gentle. It took Dean a few seconds to register that he had face planted into Cas's chest and that Cas's strong sturdy arms had caught him. Dean tried to nervously laugh it off, but the flush of his cheeks were strongly evident.

"Good catch." Dean tried to respond, but his voice cracked and he felt weak in the knees. Cas laughed and gazed down at him with those big blue eyes filled with curiosity and iris ringed golden in the light. His lips curled into the most gentle and sincere smile Dean had ever laid eyes on. Dean pushed himself up, their hands still lingering. Knuckles white and stinging from the cold, Cas could sense the irritation and sent the same electric pulse of his grace, warming Dean's hands.

It took them awhile to regain consciousness of where they were, outside of their own little world, and when they did come around, they realized the space they had taken up on the rink and decided to call it a night. But they walked back to the crudy motel hand in hand. Not because they were a couple, Dean told himself, but for, you know... For warmth.


	2. Decorating

The bunker was absolutely the most bland thing Cas had ever laid eyes on. Sure, there were still unexplored corridors and spells and books to fill his lonesome hours of the night, but with the tiny town of Lebanon Kansas all lit up for the holidays, the bunker looked… depressing.

"Dean, why do you decorate your room, but not Sam?" Cas asked out of the blue on early morning while Dean hurriedly packed his bag for the next hunt.

"'Cuz Sam's lame." He answered shortly. The back to back cases had ripped away a healthy sleep schedule and the older Winchester was beyond exhausted. Cas made an "O" shape with his mouth and moved further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You packed?" Dean asked, zipping up his duffle bag. He fixed the collar of his flannel and sighed. His bed seemed so warm and comfortable. It would have been so easy to curl up under a thousand blankets with Cas and lay there forever. Cas thought about it for a moment. He had packed, but suddenly something told him he needed to stay behind.

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay behind. There are… files needing to be organized, books to put back. Research." Dean's face fell, immediately catching the angel's lie and while something nagged at him with worry, he shoved away and played "benefit of the doubt." He sent Cas a testing look, but the angel remained completely emotionless. He sighed and sat next to him, lacing their fingers.

"You're really gonna leave me alone in the car for ten hours with Sam?" Cas chuckled.

"You've done it before." Dean puffed out his lip in protest, but leaned in kissing Cas swiftly.

"Yeah, but-" Dean paused, kissing him again. "I'm gonna have to sleep in a bed alone." Dean teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I'll watch over you, in spirit." Cas replied smugly, earning a smack on the shoulder.

"You're an ass." Cas smiled and kissed his hunter one last time, but this was much deeper, filled with much more emotion. They always did this before one of them left for a hunt. Just in case…

…

The boys had left 2 days ago.

Surely they wouldn't be home for several days later. That is, until Cas received a call that they would be home late that night.

Cas sighed at the state of the bunker. He had barely begun the transformation. First he had to research like a maniac how to properly decorate for Christmas then he spent hours driving to every store in town completely selling them out of any decorations. He had gotten the trees home in his truck and had given up on putting them up until Rowena came by and helped. With limited time, Cas had never worked so damn hard in his entire life.

There was now a twelve foot tree in the Bunker entrance wrapped in lights, ribbon and ornaments. The railings were laced with garlands and wreaths hung from the sealed pillars in the bunker too had been wrapped in the silky red ribbon and garland was stung across the beams. The second christmas tree, a much smaller one had been placed in the library, lit up with warm lights that shimmered like stars in the night. A mechanical train ran circles at its base with little gifts -horribly wrapped, but Cas had never wrapped anything before- and pictures hanging from the tree in replacement of ornaments. He had read somewhere that ornaments had to have meaning, and the store bought ones simply lacked that, so he had gotten creative.

The library tables had soft candles that smell of pine, cranberries, and cinnamon. Cas spent much longer in the candle shop than he had anticipated. Old Christmas myths recorded in deteriorating books were laid out neatly on the tables. And throughout the shelves and kitchen Christmas knick-knacks could be seen from every angle.

For their rooms themselves, each had a tiny tree with little ornaments that corresponded with the person. Sam had little candies and books, a little dog, and flannel ribbon. Dean's tree had cars, little hunting rifles, a cowboy hat ornaments. There was also a tiny silver pair of angel wings that shimmered closer to the back of the tree. And instead of a star, there was an angel that sat on the top of the tree.

The bunker looked amazing. But Cas would be lying if he said he wasn't exhausted. So the angel with the failing powers slugged across the bunker and collapsed in Dean's bed, pulling a plaid green and red blanket over his shoulders as he slipped away.

…

Sam and Dean stumbled into the bunker a little after 2, Dean's eyes have shut after driving for ten straight hours and not sleeping in four days. The ghost had been taken out rather quickly and with that, Dean was so beyond exhausted he simply hurried off to bed, navigating his way through the dark, Sam not far behind him when he entered his room. Cas was already curled up asleep, and Dean threw himself onto the mattress, tossing an arm around his angel and pulling him close. Cas shifted in his sleep, curling into the familiar warmth at his side. Dean kissed his forehead and quickly drifted off.

When Dean woke early the next morning, he was not a happy camper. Glancing at the clock that obnoxiously read 5:45, Dean lifted his head, licking his dry lips and rubbing his eyes. Cas stirred next to him, turning over and pushing Dean's shoulders back into the bed. Dean smiled and leaned back. Cas pulled himself closer, wrapping an arm around Dean's torso and tucking his head under Dean's chin. Unable to go back to sleep, Dean found himself finally able to see clearly without the gentle light of the Christmas tree stinging his eyes… wait… Christmas tree?

Dean jolted forward, leaving Cas grumbling in complaint.

"Cas. Cas, wake up." The angel did so begrudgingly and ran a hand through his hair leaving it a mess as Dean commonly referred it to, as "sex hair."

"What?"

"Did you do this?" Cas's eyes were glazed with sleep as he tried to process Dean's words.

"Yes… You didn't see the rest?" It took Cas a while to formulate the sentence, rubbing his eyes again, clearing his vision. Dean's face lit up and suddenly all the exhaustion in his expression disappeared. He tossed off the covers shivering as his feet hit the cold ground, but he was already out the door. He stopped in hallway, seeing the garlands and the ribbons and wreaths in every direction. He ran down the hallway and into the library entrance.

"Holy shit!" He hollered, startling Cas, and apparently Sam who also came out of his room groggily.

"Dean, it's too early for- Cas, wow man! Did you do this?" Cas nodded as the two followed the sound of Dean's excitement into the library.

"Look at the size of this tree! Cas how'd you get it in here? A train?! Holy crap, it smells like heaven in here!" Dean ran around the tables, examining the stockings each one labeled with their initial. Sam placed a hand on Cas's back.

"Thanks Cas. This is… this is really amazing." Cas smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but Dean grabbed him by the waist and kissed him. Sam jokingly made a face, earning a playful hit from his older brother, before Dean began looking at every picture placed on the tree in replacement for ornaments.

"Is this okay? The ornaments at the store don't hold any meaning."

"Cas, are you kidding? I love this." Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted a little slip of paper and mistaking it for a fallen picture he picked it up. He read the numbers printed on it and his eyes widened.

2,655 dollars was the total number on the bottom

"CAS!"


	3. Snow

p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Even through the heavy insulation of the bunker, the wind whooped and hollered, tossing the bare trees around like a rag doll and send sharp spikes of ice pelting through the air like bullets. And the snow came down penetrating the once gentle warmth of the ground and freezing it over into a wasteland buried beneath the fresh powder. Two feet were expected that night. And two feet fell./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong id="docs-internal-guid-d6e0784f-7fff-6fea-cdf5-f169de350906" style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"But Sam didn't mind much, he was tucked under the heavy wool blankets in his bed, Eileen curled into his chest, snoring softly. He had long forgotten the feeling of sharing a bed with another person. He clung to her, too scared to lose that feeling again. And Sam wasn't worried because his brother should have been home a few hours ago, right before the snow set in and was probably fast asleep. But something woke him up at four in the morning; the buzz of his phone, stirring on the bedside table. /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Got snowed in. Me and Cas are staying at a motel a few hours north./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Sam sighed and opened his phone, sending a quick reply to check on his brother. When he felt satisfied with the comforting feeling in his gut, he immersed himself in darkness and pulled Eileen closer. She really was a loud snorer, not that she could hear it, but Sam loved that. He loved how easily she fit next to him, how easily she smiled at him. He loved how simple she made life seem. That thought was always the lingering one as he drifted off./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;".../span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"When Dean said the motel was in lock down, he wasn't kidding. The snow had reached two and a half feet, piled so high that it would be a bitch getting out the next day. Baby was impossible to see and he cursed bitterly at the brutal conditions his car had to endure. And he cursed how the heater had to be broken in the empty little motel. And he cursed how he was covered in blood. Not his blood, but still, it stuck to his clothes and skin in a sickly drying coat and no matter how used to it he was, it still made him shiver. What he didn't curse at, was the one peaceful, completely uninterrupted night he had with Cas without having to sneak around the bunker or keep to seperate beds while hunting to prevent anyone from seeing them. He knew Cas would be their enemies number one target if anyone found out. His overprotective side was in constant overdrive after all./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Dean, you need a shower."/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Hot water is barely working!" Cas sighed and stripped off his usual dress pants. Dean eyed him and smirked, as Cas pulled on his old sweatpants. He shrugged off the coat and unbuttoned his shirt. Dean found himself staring and almost glanced away when he realized he /spanspan style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"could/spanspan style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" look. And man was Cas built. He was kind of scrawny looking in the trench, but when he pulled it off, he could see the thick line of muscle in his arms and the forming line of a faint six pack on the ex-angel. Cas threw on a t-shirt, but snatched the coat and wrapped himself like it was blanket. It was freaking cold in the motel room./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Well, I'm not sleeping in a bed with you when you're covered in blood." Dean knew he made a fair point. So he stood and slugged over to the tiny motel bathroom. He then turned and peered out the doorway with a smirk./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Shower with me?" /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""No."/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Why not?"/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Because the water is barely hot." The angel lifted his chin and smiled at his hunter and watched as he grumbled, throwing off his dirty clothes and shivering as he stepped into the shower. Cas waited patiently, flipping through the channels on the box television until he came across the weather./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""It looks like we are going to get upwards of three and a half feet in the next 24 hours, so stay off the roads and definitely cozy up until the storm lays off. Snowman building and sledding definitely in the forecast. Back to you Carol."/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Cas groaned, knowing the whole car ride home would e Dean complaining. Not that he didn't love every second spent with him, but Dean could complain like nobody else. And it wasn't about the imminent danger they were always in or the next end of the world. It was always about ridiculous things. Cas knew he would spend the time arguing how "Baby deserves better than this weather," or "Cas, your hands were too cold last night," or "All the radio station's are trash." /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Cas rolled his eyes at himself and slid further under the blankets, letting his eyes close even if he wasn't going to fall asleep./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Don't wait up for me." Dean called, struggling to pull on a pair of pajama pants. He crashed into the dresser after losing his balance, cursed and climbed into bed./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You're very graceful." Cas snarked. He had gotten good with his little snips and comebacks./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""And you're an ass." Dean laughed at himself and pulled himself into Cas, resting his head on Cas's chest listening to the steady heartbeat that pulsed the last of Cas's dying grace through his veins. "No sneaking around the bunker tonight." Dean whispered closing his eyes and breathing soundly with the feeling of the angel's grace pulsing. /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"…/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Cas had been right about the complaining./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Motherfu-"/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Dean, cursing won't help you now." Cas pointed out, which turned out, was not a smart thing to do. Dean grumbled and pushed heavy clumps of snow off the hood and trunk of baby, while Cas held the bags and watched. Cas easily got bored with Dean scraping ice off the car and instead dropped the duffes in the doorway and hurried off to the field next to the motel with its fresh blanket of deep snow. Cautiously he stepped into it, pausing when his foot sunk in and his shin was soaked. Cas smiled, the way the snow glittered in the snow was mesmerizing. /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"Cas bent over and scooped a handful watching the sparkling little flakes melt in his hand. He grabbed another handful and tossed it across the field watching it plop silently in the blanket. Like a child on Christmas morning, excitement burst through him as he ran into the field, tripping over the snow and scooping up snowballs./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Cas? What the hell?" Dean turned to see the angel wave at him before falling down into the snow, spreading his limbs apart and staring at the sft blue sky./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Dean, I've found that I enjoy snow." Dean wanted to yell at him that he was going to get baby's good leather seats all wet, but the look of pure contentment on his face dissolved any reason to complain as he marched out to meet him./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You gonna make a snow angel?" Cas cokced his head, his hair a soaking mess./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""A… what?" Dean didn't respond and instead laid next to him, moving his arms and legs back and forth before standing again./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""See? A snow angel." Cas struggled to stand but gazed at the print in the snow./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""This is a mockery to my kind." Dean laughed and nodded his head to the car./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Come on, we better head home. Roads are gonna be treacherous." Cas nodded and followed the hunter to baby who was already up and running, engine roaring and inside foggy from the heater. The exhaust pumped out clouds in the cold, but Cas climbed in happily./span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Sam and Eileen must know about these snow festivities, right?" Dean furrowed his brows as he closed the car door. /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""I think we should take them out to create snow angels, and ride the snow surfboards."/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"strong style="font-weight: normal;" /strong/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""You mean sleds?" Dean laughed and pulled out of the motel slowly careful on the slick streets. /span/p  
p style="text-align: center;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: 'Libre Baskerville',serif; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;""Yes, those too." /span/p 


	4. Mistletoe

Sam had done it again.

He strategically hung the mistletoe over his doorway, pushing Dean, beyond being annoyed. Dean snatched the little green leaves off the string they hung from and tossed it into the garbage. He hated how delicate it was. He hated how the little berries glowed in the bunker's lights and he most of all hated the nervous giddy feeling in his chest when he thought about it. Dean didn't feel an ounce of guilt as he tore the sweet smelling leaves up and tossed them. Not one bit.

Face flushed and expression full of irritation, Dean marched down the hall and into the library where his brother typed away lazily at his laptop.

"Sam!" The younger Winchester, completely used to his brother's odd… and sometimes chaotic behavior, barely looked up from his screen, his glazed over eyes showing Dean he had spent way too long staring at that stupid screen.

"What?" Sam mumbled, finally looking up and shutting the top of his computer.

"For. The. Last. Time. Stop putting mistletoe up everywhere! I know what you're doing!"

"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, it's not me!... And, what are you implying?"

"You damn well know!" Dean shot back, pointing his finger straight at Sam. Glanced up and down irritably and shrugged.

"Maybe it's Jack… or Cas's ghost." The words made Dean's heart drop to his feet and the same kick up of dust in his gut stirred the anxious knots that excited him and scared him to death. He vigorously shook his head trying to deny anything and everything. That wasn't possible… Cas was… Cas was dead.

Plus Jack had an alibi, he had no idea what mistletoe was, right? He had no idea of the meaning behind it, although the angel often misused cultural ideas, maybe this was a whole big misunderstanding. That is what Dean screamed at himself, but his chest flipped around, telling him otherwise. Sam simply shrugged again and turned back to his work. Feeling just as clueless as to before he had interrogated Sam, Dean suddenly made it his passion to figure out who was doing it, although his intuition still shouted Sam.

Dean called Rowena, chewed her out, accusing her of the little trick, but she had simply threatened to come over and hex him just for his mouth to her, and stated she would do nothing of the sort. Believing her, and a little afraid, Dean said goodbye and hung up going over a small list of people who would do this. The other dimension hunters were dead, so it couldn't have been them. The trickster was dead, so that was a hard no, Crowley was dead, another nope.

Dean thought some more but was alarmed by the fact that the mistletoe… _bothered_ him so profusely. It was the fifth time it had happened and nobody was fessing up. Dean hadn't talked to Jack yet, knowing that the kid barely knew a thing about anything much less the significant meaning of mistletoe. But he figured it was worth a shot.

"Hey bud." Dean knocked on Jack's room, the nephilim busy flipping through books enriched with fantastical tales. Sam had introduced him to Harry Potter.

"Hello Dean. Did you know that Hermione started a club to help the house elves? The movie doesn't cover that part." Dean, without the slightest clue to what Jack was saying only smiled and nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"No, I did not. Hey, um… have you been leaving mistletoe around the bunker for me?" The kid lifted his head and tilted it to the side in his confusion.

"What's that?" He thought for a second. "Are you talking about the little leaves hanging from the ceiling by your room?" Dean leapt off the bed, nodding his head.

"Yeah!" He waited for Jack to speak up, but he when didn't respond, Dean grumbled. "Do you know who put it up there?"

"No." Dean groaned, running a hand over his face. He mumbled a "thanks anyway," and stumbled back to his own room.

But there it was. The pretty little plant hanging over his bed again. His face flushed a deep red but this time he didn't take it down. Instead he laid on his back and stared up at the little berries hanging by the stem with the bright green leaves all equally distributed on the bundle and tied by the lacey red ribbon and attached to the ceiling. He felt as if he had lost a game. It was a cruel game meant to drive him insane but he sighed, knowing he had lost.

"Hello Dean." His tired eyes snapped open at the familiar deep voice that called out to him.

"Cas?" Dean called, his shoulders shrinking back and his face holding a deep frown at the last words he ever muttered to his best friend.

Dean really wanted to kiss him when he came through the portal that night. His hair had been disheveled, face worn, but his eyes had been so bright next to the glow of the rift, beautiful even. And Dean thought he had lost him for the final time as Sam had dragged him away from his angel. But when Cas came home, when Cas came home to Dean, Dean was really going to kiss him. They had saved the world again together. It really would have been perfect. But watching the blue die in his eyes was the worst moment and Dean realized he couldn't ever kiss him. Dean didn't know how long he spent sitting in the sand staring down at Cas's lifeless body, and he didn't know how many tears dropped into the sand that night. All he knew was that he had lost everything. Mom, Cas.

What was the point?

"Cas?!" Dean called out again only to notice that he was shrouded in darkness. He scanned the area but there was nothing. Utterly nothing. But then the voice came again. It was another one of those sick dreams his mind brutally fed into his conscious.

"Dean!" Dean began to run until a molding shadow began to take shape and a figure appeared. And then a trench coat. Then a tie. Then those soft blue eyes filled with a dangerous curiosity and love for humanity.

"Cas!" Dean ran into his arms, but stopped abruptly and backed away. "No, this is just a dream." Cas shook his head.

"No it's not. I am able to manifest myself here. You are asleep, but I am real. I'm in a place called the empty. It's where angels go. But for some reason I'm not supposed to be awake, not supposed to have the power I have here. I'm not sure how long I can talk, but You have to know-" His words were cut off has Deansurged forward grabbed Cas's face and kissed him, hard and deep and breathless and when he let go, he could see his shocked expression in the reflection of Cas's eyes. Cas smiled that soft, pleasant smile that made Dean's stomach lurch with excitement.

"I heard you are supposed to kiss under mistletoe." Dean stopped dead.

"That was you?!" Cas merely nodded. "H-h-how?"

"Jack. He has abilities. I can manifest myself in his mind. Only once and a while and he does it. He doesn't remember but it just happens. Before everything, I wanted to celebrate Christmas this year, wanted to give everyone a real Christmas. So I researched, but then… I just wanted to make you happy. I wanted to see your soul light up like it once did do beautifully." A tear slipped down Dean's cheek.

"Cas I-" The trench started to fade and so did the smile and shadows took over his body and Cas was dragged back to the depths of the empty. Back to nothing. No matter how hard Dean screamed for him, nothing as always the answer.

But when Dean woke up, the tears in his eyes were still evident but he smiled through them and dig the mistletoe from earlier out of the trash and hurried down the hall, hanging it in the room Cas once called his own. Dean stared at the bedroom and the little things that reminded him of Cas.

But the mistletoe above the doorway sparkled in the bunker lights just as Cas's grace had. Even when Dean whispered his name and nothing was his only gut wrenching answer, the mistletoe hanging above the door gazed at him with the same gentleness of the angel who once called Dean "home."


End file.
